In the Name of Empress-Chapter 355 - 242: Night, the Made-up Girl

"The Saintess Fuchou will return from the Netherworld, stepping through the flames, to lead the Jin Yuan People in their ultimate struggle for freedom."

Adam spread his arms wide, adding the transcendent ending often favored in perfect performances.

People love this kind of ending.

Applause continued to ring out, flowers and coins were tossed toward the stage, expressing admiration for the minstrel.

Watching the flames flicker in their eyes, Adam breathed a sigh of relief, quietly packing up his performance props ready for the next town.

Since joining Roland, he indeed gained respect, but for the past year Roland’s main focus had been building territories and waging war.

Unfortunately, he’s not very good at either.

Governor Roland measures success by both ability and achievement.

Adam did make some contributions over the past year, but not much.

He was listed at the bottom among the main ministers on the performance evaluation chart.

Of course, he was not content, so he volunteered to participate in the campaign against the Oden Kingdom, but his performance was average.

He understood cavalry, but not as well as Jes.

He had some knowledge of artillery, but was not as good as Dailong.

He understood the sea... er, he was a landlubber.

His greatest advantage was being a Transcendent, with considerable personal combat strength, but he had only just started on this path.

He achieved merits, but not many.

Watching his colleagues receive Imperial Knight titles and even Baron titles, Adam felt envy and discontent.

He lamented not having a stage to showcase his talents.

But now he did.

This time, Roland himself chose him for a special mission, asking him to follow into battle.

Thus, Adam, the landlubber, boarded the Monarch with Roland.

The sea journey nearly made him vomit his spleen and stomach, but fortunately, his physical condition was excellent, so he barely held on.

After landing at Ives Port and barely resting a few days, he received a special task.

All the way north, paving the way for the Saintess Fuchou’s return through a spectacular performance.

In this era, without the internet, most people were illiterate, and newspapers could only convey information to the upper echelon.

The lower class had better access to information via minstrels.

They traveled through countless countries, were well-informed, and could bring fresh stories along with brilliant performances, which were highly popular.

Though Adam joined the military, he had not been hindered in the old profession of minstrel; he was even more skilled.

After all, he wasn’t busy usually, with plenty of time to hone his performance skills.

This time, the script he performed, "The Return of the Saintess Fuchou," was penned by Roland himself. The language was very vivid and accessible, even a farmer who couldn’t read could understand.

Though Adam felt this form of art undermined dignity, he also admitted it was the best propaganda.

In each location, he first commemorated Mr. Carlo’s prosperity, then remembered the Empire’s glory, finally prompting people through his performance to recognize their current dire straits.

People’s memories always come with a beautifying filter.

During Mr. Carlo’s covert reign, although the Jin Yuan Kingdom’s national strength was on an upward trend, the common people’s living standards weren’t much different from the Empire’s era.

The lights of West City never reached the countryside of Jin Yuan Kingdom.

Bad living is tolerable, as long as there’s no comparison.

Whether it was the Last Emperor or during the Carlo Era, the nobility and officials, although exploiting harshly, the land of Jin Yuan Kingdom was fertile and life for the common people was passable.

There was still plenty to brew wine at year’s end, accompanied by pickled cucumbers and steaks, they could always enjoy moments of bliss.

However, since Marco came to power, everything changed.

Even though Marco thought he was acting for everyone’s good, the gap between reality and ideal was enormous.

He demanded the feudal lords to reduce taxes, and although they agreed on the surface, they continued charging under the pretext of defending against bandit threats.

There were indeed many bandits in recent years in Jin Yuan Kingdom, but they were forced by the lords and officials.

Because there was a need to eradicate bandits, they had to collect money; because they collected money, more bandits emerged.

A perfect closed loop.

In such suffocating circumstances, Adam carried the story of the Saintess Fuchou through the countryside.

Through his passionate performance, audiences resonated, rapidly spreading the news that the Saintess Fuchou was currently waging war against the Demon King occupying the capital.

Who was the Demon King?

The minstrel didn’t say, he didn’t mention any real place names, but the audience knew the answer.

There was only one Demon King, the brutal embodiment dwelling in West City who fancied beheading.

The era’s elites mostly resided in cities, with Jin Yuan Kingdom’s top-tier concentrated in West City.

The upper society viewed the lower-tier peasants similarly, as long as taxes were paid, these rascals wouldn’t rebel.

Marco didn’t even know that stories were spreading in the countryside.

Allen’s death severely damaged the intelligence system.

Many single-line linked spies could only be activated by Allen, these agents had no lists, all inscribed in Allen’s formidable memory.

Allen died too suddenly, leaving no time for final words.

These intelligence agents would forever hide their identities within various social ranks.

Allen’s death caused Marco to become mentally sensitive, considering that there might be moles in the intelligence system, Marco quickly initiated a purge without hesitation.

The intelligence system was contaminated and needed cleansing.

Marco’s thoughts weren’t necessarily wrong, but untimely.

When the intelligence system needed to operate efficiently, he raised the butcher’s knife against his own, sending countless competent agents to the guillotine to clear very few moles.

Thus, his intelligence channels ended up nearly destroyed.

Within West City, he had another intelligence system to grasp the situation; outside West City, his intelligence was less accurate than the Mercenary Guild.

Adam cautiously moved around different locales: delivering the story and stirring hearts before fleeing, never realizing that Marco wasn’t aware of his actions.

As the sun began to set, he planned to leave the "Once had Seven Old Ginkgo Trees" town, journeying overnight to the next town, but several children stopped him.

"Uncle Adam, is the story you told made up?"

"Of course not."

Faced with the children’s clear eyes, Adam found it hard to lie, so he quickly patched up his statement.

"Of course, art must evolve, beautify, and refine. Just like a beautiful girl attending a banquet needs to do exquisite makeup."

A little boy nodded frequently, "I understand, Miss Lilith puts on makeup every night and goes on dates with different people. She’s much prettier than my mom, yet she still wears makeup."

"Oh?" Adam’s eyes lit up, putting on makeup every night and going on dates with different people? A girl with a proper profession wouldn’t do this.

Obviously, the profession Miss Lilith engaged in wasn’t quite proper.

He heard she was also very beautiful? Adam’s lips curved slightly upwards.

It seemed there was no need to rush the journey tonight.

This time joining the expedition, he even maintained his image by not going ashore with the sailors at Ives Port to seek fun, which had frustrated him for some time.

He was seasick to the point of nausea and couldn’t get up on the ship.

It was time to find some amusement.

After telling the kids two more fairy tales, Adam finally indirectly asked about Miss Lilith’s residence and left satisfied.

Dusk was just falling.

The night’s tranquility in the small town was enough to frighten ghosts.

Those who could afford candles typically wouldn’t reside in such a small place, so every evening, the town became exceptionally quiet.

Miss Lilith was one of the rare people who could afford to light candles.

What she did wasn’t a proper profession, so she needed lights at night.

Looking at the pitch-black night sky outside the door, she stared blankly for a while, yawned, and it seemed like it would be another boring, empty night.

It seemed no one would come tonight. Lilith reached out towards the half-opened door, preparing to close it and rest.

She vaguely heard news from West City, which made her wait every night in fear for someone who would never arrive.

She wasn’t even sure if she was hoping someone would come or never come.

In a daze, her hand didn’t press the door handle but instead landed on a broad hand.

"Oh dear."

A somewhat absent-minded Lilith gasped softly, took a half-step back, and instinctively wanted to reach towards her waist but suddenly stopped.

An unfamiliar face appeared at the door.

Handsome, with a bit of unruliness, like sunshine pouring into the room.

Lilith’s heart inexplicably thumped hard.

She lowered her head slightly, asking softly, "Sir, it’s late. If you need something, please come tomorrow."

Adam looked at Lilith in astonishment, somewhat puzzled.

Isn’t she in that kind of business? Why is she pretending here?

Lilith’s makeup was strange, indeed looking beautiful, yet it always seemed to hide something.

Adam hesitated for a second, pulled out three Gold Livres from his pockets, and straightforwardly said:

"Is it enough to be your temporary husband tonight?"

Lilith’s expression froze.

She finally understood what Adam wanted.

What on earth does he take her for?!

She fiercely reached towards her waist, where a soft dagger was hidden in her belt, ready to pierce the heart of a lecherous man easily.

The handle of the dagger was linked with the belt buckle.

To pull out the dagger, she had to undo the belt buckle.

With a "click," the dagger handle was gripped in Lilith’s hand, but she suddenly stopped.

"Beautiful girl, are you afraid of the night?"

"You...what do you mean?" Lilith bit her lip, her hand trembling slightly.

"I’m afraid of the night, so I need the company of a gentle girl."

Adam spread his hands and said openly, "But I’m definitely not a john, just the temporary husband of those lost girls, even if only for one night."

"You...will really treat me like a wife?"

After saying this, Lilith wished she could stab herself.

Her face flushed red, but fortunately, her makeup was thick and the candle was dim; he certainly couldn’t see clearly.

Just over a fortnight ago, her superior didn’t send the customary signal.

For an intelligence agent, losing contact is the greatest fear, whether it’s the superior or the subordinate.

Unable to sleep every night, her dark circles were severe, requiring heavy makeup to conceal them.

Surely someone thought her heavily made-up appearance was for doing that kind of business, attracting this handsome yet lecherous man in front of her.

If it were usual, she’d definitely take advantage of Adam’s moment of distraction to stab him.

But tonight, she was moved by Adam’s words.

She indeed was afraid, afraid of the night.

Adam’s voice was too appealing for her to resist.

She desperately needed the warmth of an embrace, even if only for a moment, even if the other was extravagant.

"Of course."

Adam was just talking nonsense; how could he possibly treat a prostitute like a wife?

But the fear and helplessness in Lilith’s eyes made him soft-hearted and inclined not to refuse.

Anyway, tomorrow they would go their separate ways; what harm in making her a bit happier?

"May I know the name of my temporary husband?"

Adam initially planned to use an alias but couldn’t bear to wound Lilith’s clear gaze.

Though it was odd associating a clear gaze with a prostitute, that’s what he thought.

"Tomorrow, before the journey, I’ll tell you."

Lilith released the handle she was gripping, locked the dagger, and unbuckled her belt.

Like a wounded little animal, she threw herself into Adam’s embrace.